Pain Is Red
by butterflycullen429
Summary: Red is a color that means so many different things when placed in certain contexts. It can mean passion when in the throes of powerful love, and courage in the face of a difficult battle. But, here, in my shower with the color red dripping down my stomach to land on the floor where it runs pink when the water mingles with the vibrant color, it means pain.
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing. Blaine's POV.  
**

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I stumble into my room, blinking the tears from my eyes, and wiping away the ones that fall. All I can feel is the pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. The pain that tints the happiest memories that swirl around within my mind. The pain that follows me around non-stop, and weighs on my heart like a ton of bricks.

But it's pain that I've caused myself. The pain that I caused by cheating on the love of my life, no, existence. My whole world revolves around this beautiful blue-eyed boy who has always been braver and more courageous than I'll hope ever be. A boy who trusted me with his heart, and came to regret it in the end as everything he'd known for the past two years came tumbling down on top of him.

I remember the look on his face, and the sorrow, the misery, in his eyes as I tried to talk to him, to explain myself to him, earlier that night after the curtain had gone down on the last scene of _Grease_. And those final words that stopped my heart as he uttered them in a broken, yet still beautiful despite the circumstances, voice.

''Relationships are about trust, and I don't trust you anymore.''

A strangled sob escapes my lips as I cry out at the pain suffocating me. My hands reach up to my chest, and I rest them over the place where my broken heart is beating. How can a heart feel so much pain, yet still beat? If you break your own heart, does the pain ever leave you?

Well, if the pain isn't going to leave, then I have to control it somehow.

I rush up from my bed, and hurry into my bathroom. There, resting innocently on my bathroom counter, is my razor. I'd read and heard about it at least a dozen times. How people hurt themselves so they have some control over the pain. Angrily, I pick up the razor to wrestle the blades out of the place where their being held captive encased in the blue plastic. After my fingers are bloody and raw with the cuts I've given them in my effort to free the sharp blades, I finally have three good blades I can use to control the pain with.

I place the razor blades on the edge of the sink, and strip myself of the plain white clothes of my teen angle costume I'm wearing. I turn the shower on up to the highest temperature it can go, and grab the razors before diving under the steaming spray of the shower head.

I ignore my hissing skin as the water makes contact with my shoulder blades, and instead rake the sharp edge of the razor over the smooth skin of my stomach. The red sprouting from the cut is a perfect embodiment of the pain I feel.

'Red.', I think bitterly to myself, as I watch the blood trickle slowly down the smooth expanse of my stomach.

Red is a color that means so many different things when placed in certain contexts. It can mean passion when in the throes of powerful love, and courage in the face of a difficult battle. But, here, in my shower with the color red dripping down my stomach to land on the floor where it runs pink when the water mingles with the vibrant color, it means pain. Unbearable pain. Blinding pain. PAIN!

I don't stop after one, two, four, or even eight cuts. I keep going until there's not a place of smooth skin left on my stomach. Until pain is consuming me both inside and out. I cut until I'm gasping for breath, struggling to stand, and the once smooth skin of my stomach is covered in thick, red blood, flowing freely from the twenty or so cuts I've mad.

It doesn't take long for the effects of the blood loss to take effect, and I feel myself start to sway. My eyelids flutter closed as I tumble to the floor of my shower in a heap of blood, pain, and self-loathing. I'm not trying to kill myself, I'm not, but I'm not exactly trying to stay alive either.

The last conscious thought that flits through my red clouded mind before I'm dragged into the blissfully cool waters of unconsciousness is Kurt. Just his name, nothing more, and then the black waves claim me as their own, ensnaring me as I pray for t all to end.

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**Whew, OK so, wow. First off, thanks for reading this short story. This was my first crack at an angst story so I would love to know what you guys thought about it. Constructive criticism is always and very welcome. I might write a sequel if I get any request. Review please.  
**


	2. Human

**I own nothing. A special thanks to Ilikerandomthingssodontjudgeme for the amazing review that I incorporated into this chapter. This chapter has also been published as a one shot titled Human, but I added it here too just because I could.  
**

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''I just don't understand why he would do this.''

''Well something had to have set him off.''

''Did he say anything last night?''

The voices swirl around me from somewhere close by mixed with a flurry of other unfamiliar sounds. There's an incessant beeping emanating from a place beside me that makes me wish I hadn't woken up.

Wait, woken up? I'm supposed to be dead. I remember coming home last night with heart-break, and pure unadulterated _pain_ hanging onto my every thought and action. Then, the physical pain as I stood under the hot spray of my shower, and silently watched as thick, red blood came rushing out of the cuts I had made on the once smooth skin of stomach.

I groan as I realize what the voices around me, which came to a dead stop upon hearing me groan, and the stupid annoying beeping sound coming from somewhere off to my left mean for me. I'm in a hospital somewhere. After everything that I've done wrong in my life, killing myself is one of those things that I apparently just couldn't do right.

It's not like I was _trying_ to kill myself when I started cutting, but, after I had lost too much blood and collapsed into a tangle of body parts on the floor of my shower, I came to the conclusion that death wouldn't be too bad. The pain would end. I wouldn't have to be a disappointment to my parents anymore. Kurt wouldn't have to deal with me when he, clearly, doesn't want to. Death just seemed like a win win situation for everyone.

A sudden weight covering the palm of my right hand shakes me out of my reverie.

''Blaine, sweetie, can you hear me?''

My eyes snap open for a split second before closing again after the brightness of the overhead lights sting them.

I groan in response to my mother's question before opening my eyes, slowly, once again. It takes a couple of seconds for them to adjust before I begin to make out the five or so misplaced people stationed about in my hospital room.

Next to my bed holding my hand is my mother, and sitting in the chair next to her is my father. A slight surprise, though not completely unexpected, is Burt Hummel sitting in a chair resting against the wall off to my left with Carole rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

What is a surprise, however, is the sight of Kurt Hummel standing with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall opposite my bed.

''Kurt?'', the name comes out in a broken, hoarse voice due to the lack of use for however long I'd been sleeping.

''Do you guys mind? Blaine and I need to have a talk.'', Kurt's soft voice acts as a long overdue shock given to revive my broken heart.

Murmurs of agreement brake out across the room as everyone makes their way out the door. My mother leans over to lay a gentle kiss on my forehead while my father just gives Kurt a nod before exiting the room. Carole and Burt each flash me a sad smile before patting Kurt's shoulder as they pass him on their way out the door.

Finlay, it's just the two of us alone, facing each other silently. I can't meet his crystal blue eyes, and settle my gaze on my hands as the fumble with the edge of the soft, light blue blanket covering my legs. I hear him step away from the wall and make his way over to stand at the foot of my bed, yet I still refuse to chance a look at him.

''Blaine, look at me.'' The soft tone of his voice grants me the courage I need to look him in the eyes.

''Why did you do it?''

There was no malice in the question. No blame, hurt, regret, or pain. There is no trace of the miserable heart break I had recently given him.

His voice conveys only sympathy and love. Love that I don't deserve. Sympathy that is wasted on someone like me. It is this realization that sets off the racking sobs that have been such a common occurrence since the moment Kurt walked away from me.

''Hey, shh, it's going to be okay.'', Kurt's soothing voice washes over me so like the forgiving waters of unconsciousness from last night as he eases himself down on the narrow to pull me into the circle of his arms.

''I'm so sorry, Kurt. I'm so sorry.'' These painful words are the only ones I can gasp out between the sobs shaking my body.

I takes longer than either of us thought it would to fully calm the painful sobs, and slow my tears.

Kurt pulls away from me, but stays seated on the edge of my bed before forcing my eyes to meet his and saying, ''I need to know why, Blaine. Why would you do this to yourself?''

''I've messed up so much, Kurt. I disappoint my parents ever damn day by just being who I am. I screwed up our relationship for one stupid kiss. I broke your trust, and your heart along with it. But, mostly, I just couldn't take the pain anymore. All I feel is pain. It follows me around, mocking me, reminding me that I'll never be loved again. I knew I had lost you for good, and I couldn't take that. It just hurts too much.'', my words come out in a whisper of pain and self hate.

''I'm so sorry.'', I say once again.

''We're humans, we do stupid things. Stupid things we come to regret. We do these things, and then look back on it saying, 'Why the hell did I do that?' even though, at the time, it felt like we had every reason to. We're humans, we overreact and scream and yell and take everything for granted, but that doesn't make us terrible. It makes us amazing. You and I have overcome so much in our short life. What I said last night after the show, about how I didn't trust you anymore, didn't mean that I didn't still love you. Because I do. God, Blaine, when my dad woke me up at four o' clock in the morning to tell me that my boyfriend was in the hospital with multiple cuts across his stomach, the only thing going through my mind was 'Please don't leave me.' I'm not ready to give up on us, and you shouldn't be either. I know we still have a long way to go before we can get back to where we left off, but if you'll give us another chance, I would love to start over.''

''I don't deserve a second chance.'', I say, shaking my head while more tears flow.

''Let me ask you something, Blaine.'', Kurt takes both of my hands in his gently, and looks deep into my eyes. ''Why did you cheat?''

''Kurt, please, don't-''

''Blaine, I _need _to know.''

His voice and tone leave no room for argument, and he deserves to know the truth, so I heave a sigh before saying, ''Because it felt like you were moving on with your life, and I wasn't apart of it. Then, I thought that maybe we weren't meant for each other, that we weren't supposed to spend the rest of our lives together. The worst part is, right after I did it, I knew that we were.''

Kurt nods before asking me another question. ''What exactly did you, um, do?''

''It was a guy who friended me on Facebook. I went over to his house, and we started kissing. After he'd taken my shirt off, he got up to get a condom, and that's when I realized that we were meant to be together. Then, I put my shirt back on and left. And I'm so sorry, Kurt.'', my words are still filled with anguish.

''You mean, you didn't actually sleep with him?'', Kurt asks with a raised eyebrow.

''No, but cheating is still cheating, right?''

''Oh, Blaine, honey.''

Kurt doesn't say anything before pulling me into a kiss. The kiss is tentative and unsure, but it's still a kiss. It's still a touch that I've been craving since the moment he left for New York.

When Kurt pulls away, he brings his lips to my ear so he can whisper, ''I forgive you, I trust you , and I love you, Blaine Anderson.''

''I love you, too.'', I whisper back, and the tears streaming down my cheeks are of happiness now, and not pain or sorrow.

Things aren't fixed yet, and we both still have some issues we need to work out. It's going to take a lot of effort to reach the point of _okay _again, but we're both here, we're both willing, and we both want this. That's enough for me.

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**I hope it lived up to your guys expectations. Thank you so much for reading, and another special thanks to Ilikerandomthingssodontjudgeme for the amazingly well written review that made up part of Kurt's dialogue. **

**Review, please!**


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